In Vino Veritas

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September 08, 2007

Farmer's Daughter Sun Comes Up Over Santa Monica Boulevard

Without fail, come the Annual 4th of July Bash, Chickenbone would chow down a dozen or more of our specially charred hot dogs straight from the grill. After the first couple, he didn't even bother with a bun. Every half hour or so he'd bellow: Tastes Like More, Mike!

Then he'd snaffle up another hot puppy, do the finger-licking-good thing, and chase it with a cold Bud he'd fished out of the galvanized trash can full of ice slurry and beer (damn that's good, Tastes Like More, Mike!).

Bob Weiser was a Bud man from way back. I always figured that was a fitting tribute since his last name was Weiser and Bud is another short version or nickname for Robert. Cue Sheryl Crow:

He says his name's William but I'm sure,
He's Bill or Billy or Mac or Buddy. Or Bud. Weiser.

Bud Weiser.

Except, Chickenbone didn't pronounce it Bud Wiser, as in....

Can beer make you smarter?

I dunno, it made Bud Weiser.

It was Bud Wheezer, like that alternative geek rock band. Germans. Go figure.

Then there was that one year where he almost got into it with Stevie Crown over, what? CRS, but, man, boy howdy, they sure dang near went to blows. Don't matter now, Chickenbone's been gone for years and Stevie is still got a girl in every port and a finger on Osama's pulse.